Trinity: Bride of West Virginia (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 35) Page 4

  “I’ll … it’ll take a while to get used to being married. I … I’ve had a trying month. I survived a fire, sir. I should’ve died.”

  “It was your choice to come here and marry a stranger. I detect a fair amount of regret in your voice. I can feel it when I hold you.”

  Tears flooded once again, and I tried my best to will them away. “Like I said, it’ll take some getting used to.” I felt his appraisal. “I just don’t know where to sleep.”

  “Why not try his room? He’s taken over yours.”

  “Does he always snore so?”

  “Ever since I can remember.”

  “Oh.”

  “He was fond of my mother. It was a love match. They’d been married for nearly thirty-seven years.”

  “I see.”

  “They were well-matched. They were happy.”

  “I’m glad to hear you had an enjoyable childhood.”

  “Not quite. I lost my older brother when he was thirteen. I was ten.”

  “I didn’t know that. I’m terribly sorry.”

  “It’s not something anyone relishes speaking about, but we all have burdens we must bear.”

  “True.” I leaned towards him, not certain of my intentions, yet he drew me to him again. I sighed, closing my eyes, enjoying the closeness.

  His lips grazed the side of my forehead. “I need to leave here, as soon as possible.”

  “You do? Work?”

  He pushed me away abruptly. “Go to sleep, Mrs. Witherspoon.”

  I perceived anger in his voice now, imagining he scowled. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he grated.

  “For showing me a little kindness. It’s greatly appreciated. I won’t forget it.”

  “Good night.” He turned on his heel, stalking from the room.

  Chapter Six

  I slept in my husband’s bedroom, finding the bed comfortable, the sheets soft, feeling like silken cotton. Mrs. Dexter seemed to know I was there, arriving with a tray of tea, a single rose in a small vase.

  “Good morning. I don’t know what you like to eat, Mrs. Witherspoon, so I brought a little of everything, eggs, bacon, fruit, and some pastries. Did you sleep well?”

  Sitting up, I moved hair from my eyes. “Yes, thank you.” Did she find it strange that I was in Mr. Witherspoon’s bed? “Is … is my husband awake?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Oh.”

  “His snores are rather loud, aren’t they?” She smiled marginally.

  “Yes.”

  “No matter. I’m happy to serve you in any of the rooms in this mansion.”

  I glanced at the tray. “It’s lovely. I'm not used to people bringing me food.”

  Lilith stood with her hands folded before her, an apron around her waist. “I should inform you that Mr. Witherspoon would like you to visit a dress shop today.”

  “Dress shop?”

  “You’ll need something for tonight.”

  “I will?”

  “Mr. Witherspoon is having guests at the house.”

  “I didn’t know.” I poured tea into a cup, my mind slowly accepting this idea. “How many guests?”

  “Thirty.”

  I stared wide-eyed. “Thirty? So many? That’s a rather large party.”

  “It is. Mr. Witherspoon sent out the invitations last week. All of his guests have accepted. The household will be preparing for the party today. Food is arriving later. You needn’t do a thing, Mrs—Trinity. You may spend your time as you wish, although Mr. Witherspoon will accompany you to the Ladies’ Emporium.”

  “Thirty people,” I mused, astonished by these developments.

  “Yes, indeed.”

  “Does he normally host such large gatherings?”

  “Not as large, but he will have many dinner guests. He’s quite active in the business community. He’s part owner of a local mining company after all.”

  I had not prepared to marry such a man, having little experience or knowledge about how to go on as a woman of leisure. She seemed to sense my bewilderment, smiling.

  “I can guide you to success, Trinity. You needn’t worry about a thing.”

  “I … can I have someone fix my hair?”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll assign you a personal maid.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ve a few things to do.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “When you’re ready to go to town, do come down and see me.”

  “All right.”

  She left then, closing the door behind her. I realized she brought clothing for my use, some of the things that had been in my luggage. They appeared freshly laundered, although the shirtwaist and skirt were in sorry shape. I washed and dressed, arranging my hair on top of my head, which would be hidden beneath a hat.

  Once ready, I left the room, marching down the hallway to the stairs, hearing voices below. In the foyer, I wandered towards the rear of the house, seeing a freight wagon parked out back, men unloading crates.

  “There you are.” Mrs. Dexter came to stand beside me. “Ready?”

  “Yes. Where is my husband?”

  “Mr. Witherspoon is waiting for you in the carriage.”

  “Did I take too long? I’m sorry.”

  “It’s no bother. Do come, though. This room is dreadfully noisy.”

  I followed her down the hallway to the entrance of the mansion, where she held open the door. A carriage waited at the base of the steps, the door open. From this vantage point, I saw a man’s booted foot within.

  “Good day, Mrs. Dexter.”

  “Good day, Mrs. Witherspoon. Lunch will be served the moment you return.”

  “Thank you.” I descended, approaching the carriage, the coachman helping me alight. I sat across from my husband, meeting his eyes a moment later. Sucking in a breath of surprise, I stared at Nathanial. “What … I’m going to a dress shop.”

  “So I’ve been told.” His look remained bland.

  The coachman shut the door, clambering up to his perch, the wagon jarring into motion. “I assumed my husband was taking me.”

  “He’s out for a walk.”

  “Does he walk every morning?”

  “Fresh air is rejuvenating.”

  I could not help grinning. “It is.” He blinked rapidly, suppressing a scowl, which was strange. I hadn’t said anything to upset him, as far as I knew. “I thought you wished to leave at once. You said so last night.”

  “I’ve been persuaded to stay another day.” From the look on his face, he found it distasteful. “I should go.” He glanced out the window, as the carriage ambled towards Pike Street, shops lining the avenue. “Lord knows I should go.”

  “Is it the party? I didn’t know thirty people were coming.”

  “He wants to show you off.”

  “He does?”

  “Of course. It’s a backwards engagement party. It’s imperative you’re introduced to Clarksburg society as soon as possible. Everyone will want to meet you.”

  “Did he ask that I go shopping, or was that you?”

  His eyes remained fixed on my person. “Me.”

  “I see.” Did my appearance embarrass him?

  He seemed to read my mind, saying, “You do want to make a good first impression, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “Then a trip to the store is imperative.”

  “Because my clothes are hideous.”

  “They’re not fit for a woman of your stature. You must realize that.”

  I nodded, glimpsing a red brick building out the window. “And you don’t want me to make your father look bad.”

  “I want you to feel confident.”

  The door opened, the coachman having parked before the building. I desired to continue the conversation, but I found myself on the front steps, looking at mannequins in the window, dressed in the latest fashions. We entered a moment later, the bells on the door chiming. A woman in a high-necked afterno
on dress with puffed sleeves approached.

  “Hello.” She smiled politely, her gaze resting on Nathanial. “How may I help you?”

  Shelves upon the wall held hats and shoes, while dresses in a profusion of colors hung from several wooden rods across the room. A woman shopping glanced over her shoulder at us, her child by her side.

  “Mrs. Witherspoon requires something to wear this evening.”

  Her eyes widened. “Witherspoon?”

  “Yes, Mrs. John Witherspoon.”

  “Oh, I see.” Now her smile broadened in earnest. “Well, I’m pleased to meet you.” She held out a hand. “I’m Mrs. Gertrude Barney.”

  I shook her hand. “Trinity Witherspoon.”

  “Well, this is an unexpected surprise. I had no idea Mr. Witherspoon remarried. Congratulations.” She stared at Nathanial. “I … assume you’re the son who lives in Boston?”

  “I am.”

  “Do come to the back. I’ve a private dressing room.” She escorted us past the counter, where a saleswoman wrapped a package. “Willie! I need you.”

  The room in question held racks of clothing and a changing screen, decorated in pink and black roses. A large leather sofa stood against the wall, with a table and folded newspapers.

  “Please sit, Mr. Witherspoon. I’ll have tea brought out at once. Willie!”

  A woman appeared, looking frazzled. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “This is Mrs. Trinity Witherspoon. She’s newly married and in need of something to wear this evening.”

  The woman named Willie gazed at me. “I’ll have to measure her, but I’m certain we have something that’ll fit. I can take the hem in, if need be.”

  “Excellent. I require a pot of tea as well.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Barney.” She left the room at once.

  Nathanial took a seat on the sofa, resting his arms on the back, staring at me. “We shouldn’t limit ourselves to just one evening dress. You might as well throw everything else in and the kitchen sink.” A hint of a smile softened his features.

  Millie returned a moment later with an armful of dresses, draping them over a table. The wealth of fabrics caught my eye, the white lace, the deep green velvets and shiny grey satin. Shoes arrived a moment later, with hats and gloves and stoles. A Charvet dress with a shirtwaist and chemise draped over a chair, while bloomers and blouses hung on a nearby rack.

  The women fussed over me, helping me to change behind the privacy of the screen, as Nathanial sipped tea and read a newspaper. I emerged with each new outfit, turning before a full-length mirror.

  I heard him say, “Not that one. That color looks hideous on her.”

  Then I came out again. “Yes, that’s quite good.”

  After changing, I appeared. “No, that’s dreadful. You should take that out and burn it straight away.”

  And then when I wore an elaborately embroidered evening gown, the fabric sparkling with glossy black beads, I felt a twinge of excitement, staring down at myself. The corset cinched my waist, pushing my breasts up, the skin swelling above the neckline. I had never worn anything so … extravagant. When I stepped from behind the screen, I felt Nathanial’s eyes on me, the effect like sipping champagne, the bubbles bursting in my belly, flooding me with pleasure.

  “That’s a lovely dress,” gushed Mrs. Barney.

  “No,” murmured Nathanial. “That’s a beautiful woman.”

  Chapter Seven

  As I prepared for the evening ahead, sitting before a mirror at a dressing table near the windows, I gazed at myself in disbelief. One of the maids, Penny, fixed my hair, curling it around my face and gathering the brown locks at the back. A small tin of pomade made of beeswax, olive oil, and rose oil, had been applied to my lips, giving them a glossy sheen.

  “Are you happy with it?” asked Penny, smiling at me in the mirror.

  “It’s a dream.”

  “Beg your pardon?”

  “I feel like I’m in a fairytale. I’ve never worn anything so … fine. I’ve never looked like this.” Who was this woman who stared at me with wide, expectant eyes? Three days ago I had been in a shabby boarding house in Lawrence, eating a raw potato and half a carrot, waiting to meet my husband.

  “Would you like more curls, Madam?”

  “No. You’ve done a wonderful job.” I glanced at her over my shoulder, seeing a woman of color in a black dress and white apron. “Thank you, Penny. You’ve been very helpful.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Madam.” She curtsied, bowing her head slightly. “Is there anything else you require? Shall I polish your shoes?”

  “No, they’re new. They’re fine. I’m perfectly fine.”

  “May I bring you some tea? Supper won’t be for hours.”

  People had been to the house all day, floral arrangements arriving, the caterers cooking food. It smelled heavenly with the sounds of a violin playing. Nathanial indulged himself with music, and I adored listening to him play, although I was a floor away.

  “Tea would be nice. Something to tide me over until later.”

  “Yes, Madam.”

  A knock sounded at the door. “My dear, are you presentable?”

  I glanced at Penny. “It’s my husband.” I hadn’t seen Mr. Witherspoon all day.

  “I’ll go directly.” She hurried for the door, which revealed a man dressed in a dark tailcoat and trousers, his hair combed back.

  I got to my feet, facing my husband, realizing just how similar his eyes were to Nathanial’s. A slightly ruddy complexion graced his cheeks, his jowls fleshy.

  “Hello,” I said, feeling oddly shy. Memories of the night before flittered into my mind. We had been intimate … strangers joining in the dark. I wondered how I would feel today about it, worried I might feel revulsion at the sight of him, but I didn’t, thankfully. “Nathanial chose this dress.”

  Grasping the cane, he ambled into the room, smiling. “His tastes are impeccable. You look divine. A true vision, my dear.”

  That gladdened me. “I’m happy you approve.”

  “There is something missing, though.”

  My smile fell. “What did I forget?” I had come home with a dozen bags and several hatboxes. A few garments needed minor tailoring, and they would arrive in the next few days.

  From the pocket in his coat, he produced a long, thin, velvet box. “Come sit down, Trinity. Let’s see how this looks on you. It belonged to my late wife.” Something cool went around my neck, clasping at the back.

  I glanced at myself, seeing diamonds and pearls created in an artful garland style with a center motif featuring a large pearl drop. My mouth fell open. “My stars!”

  “There we are.” He grinned with satisfaction. “That is the finishing touch, although you hardly needed embellishment. Now you’re ready to greet our guests.”

  I glanced at him over my shoulder. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  “It’s but a small token of my appreciation. You’ve made me a very happy man, my dear. You’re far more than I’d hoped for.”

  Getting to my feet, I stood taller now by an inch because of the shoes I wore. “You’ve been very generous, sir. I worried I might’ve overspent today.”

  “I never saw the bill. I believe Nathanial paid, but it doesn’t matter, because I only want to please you, Trinity. If pretty dresses and jewels make you happy, then you may have as many as you want.”

  Not knowing what to say, I murmured, “Thank you.” Yet, something in that statement bothered me. I never aspired to look like a woman of fashion. The only thing I had ever wanted was to feel love and be loved.

  “Now then, I shall go below by the back stair. You may make your grand entrance whenever you’re ready.” Because of the cane, he preferred to take the servant’s stairs, not wanting eyes on him as he labored to descend.

  “All right. I’m nearly ready.”

  He kissed my cheek, his lips feeling soft and cold. “You do make me very proud. I shall show you off to all and sundry this evening and watch the envy i
n their eyes. Who says a man cannot have a second chance at life, eh?”

  “I hope to never disappoint you.”

  “That would be impossible.” He squeezed my hand, his gaze lingering on the swell of skin, where diamonds sparkled, catching the light. “I would rather … well,” he grinned sheepishly, “I’d prefer to take the dress off you, but I realize now is not the moment.”

  I shivered, interpreting the gleam in his eye. “Penny went through a great deal of trouble arranging my hair.”

  “And I shall ruin it later,” he murmured. “But, now, we have guests.” He turned, ambling towards the door. “I will see you momentarily, my dear.”

  “Yes.”

  Not wanting to keep anyone waiting any longer, I breathed a deep, restorative breath, throwing my shoulders back. I prepared to face a roomful of strangers, Nathanial and my husband being among them. The day I spent shopping had been nothing short of magical, the approval shining in Nathanial’s eyes giving me such confidence. He had been extraordinarily patient, waiting for me to try on each outfit, then waiting even longer for the seamstress to pin the garments that needed to be tailored. No one said a word on the ride back to the house, the silence strangely companionable. We had each been in our own worlds.

  As I left the room, I heard the sounds of conversation, laughter ringing out, along with music, as a five piece orchestra played. The stairs were to the right, my hand on the railing, seeing the top of the chandelier, all its lights blazing, the crystals dangling. Ladies and gentlemen filled the foyer, most holding wineglasses. The aroma of perfume lingered, with the faint odor of tobacco.

  A twinge of nervous anticipation raced through me, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I felt eyes darting in my direction, men and women turning to stare. I faltered then, wanting to run away and hide in my room. What if I tripped in the new shoes and broke my neck? What if I stepped on the hem and tore the dress? It took every ounce of courage I possessed to lift my gaze from my feet, staring across the foyer at a man standing by the wall. I knew him at once, dressed in a black tailcoat and trousers, a light waistcoat peeking out from beneath.